To Wed A Viscount

by Adrienne Basso

  “I think not ”

  His stern voice halted her progress toward the door. “You wish me to keep the carriage at the manor?”

  “No.”

  She looked uncertainly at him for a moment. “What shall I instruct the servants to do with it?”

  “Nothing. You will be returning to my home so the coach can be properly placed in the carriage house where it belongs.” Griffin set his jaw in a hard line. “No matter what our differences are, I do not intend to live apart from my wife.”

  With his message faithfully delivered, it was now Griffin’s turn to pivot on his heel and calmly walk out the door, leaving behind a very bewildered Faith.

  Ten

  It was not the triumphant homecoming Faith had always envisioned. Instead of familiar servants lining the drive poised to wish her well, their faces beaming with happy, expectant grins, there was complete silence as the coach rattled down the long drive. Instead of an eager husband clutching her hand in support as she approached her new home, Faith sat alone in the carriage, with only her nerves for company.

  Griffin had ridden on horseback the entire way home, refusing to abandon his mount even when a light drizzle had started. At first she was glad to be spared his tight stares and accusing glances, but as the miles ticked away Faith began to feel sad and lonely without him.

  She remembered fondly the days before their wedding, when Griffin would come to Merry’s house intent on amusing them both. His boyish charm and wicked sense of humor brightened every afternoon. Would she ever see that side of him again?

  The carriage halted. Faith fleetingly hoped it would be Griffin’s hand that reached in to assist her from the vehicle, but instead it was a white-gloved footman’s. Telling herself she was expecting far too much, too soon, of her newly acquired husband, the Viscountess Dewhurst emerged from her cocoon.

  She was relieved to note that Griffin had not been so completely lacking in manners. He waited, with a purely unreadable expression on his face, for her to join him at the closed front door. It took more courage than she’d imagined it would to lift her chin and walk toward him with at least a semblance of dignity.

  “I take it you had a pleasant journey,” Griffin said rigidly when she reached his side.

  “The ride was surprisingly gentle,” Faith replied, wishing he would offer her his arm. Her knees were feeling stiff and weak. “I’m pleased to report I did not give up my breakfast, even when we hit an occasional rut in the road.”

  “I envy your strong stomach,” he remarked with a slight grin. “ ’Tis a stroke of good fortune to be blessed with such an iron constitution.”

  “To match my hard-as-iron head?” Faith quipped.

  Griffin’s grin flashed again briefly, and a delightful warmth rippled through Faith, softening the doubt and apprehension. If she could summon the courage to tease him, perhaps there was hope for the future.

  Still, it was difficult for Faith to contain a groan when the front door swung open to reveal the butler she had previously tricked to gain entrance to the house. He was a tall, bone-thin man with a streak of gray running through the middle of his limp, dark hair. Faith saw the amused glint appear in his eye momentarily when she entered the house, yet it quickly disappeared when he discovered her sudden change in status.

  “On behalf of myself and the entire household, may I offer my sincerest congratulations on your marriage,” the butler choked out.

  “Thank you,” Faith replied graciously. “I look forward to meeting the entire staff and becoming acquainted with each and every one of them.”

  It clearly was the wrong thing to suggest. The butler looked properly scandalized for a split second before his face slipped back to a formal mask. “As your ladyship wishes.”

  “Are my sisters at home?” Griffin inquired as he handed his hat and gloves to a waiting footman.

  “Yes, my lord,” the butler replied, seeming relieved to have a more familiar question. “They are in the music room, attempting to give young master Neville a musical lesson on the pianoforte.”

  “Kindly inform them that I have returned from London, and instruct them to join us in the drawing room. I have important news that I wish to tell them personally.”

  “I understand,” the butler said with a polite bow. “Shall I have refreshments sent?”

  “Just tea.”

  Faith’s brow wrinkled at Griffin’s answer. So this was not to be a celebratory meeting. No champagne to toast the bride and groom and wish them every happiness. A part of her applauded Griffin’s lack of artifice, yet deep down she was disappointed

  They walked side by side to the drawing room without touching, thanks to the wide foyer. Faith paused at the entrance, her heart pounding uncomfortably, worry causing the sweat to bead on her upper lip.

  Faith was not anticipating a warm reception from Griffin’s sisters. Harriet had never liked her, and young Elizabeth usually followed her strong-willed sister’s lead. Faith told herself their opinions did not matter overmuch; it was Griffin’s son she must win over.

  Yet there was no denying that life would be far more congenial if her new sisters by marriage would accept her into the household willingly. With a worried frown, Faith settled herself in a chair near the corner while Griffin paced in front of the fireplace. They spoke not a word to each other.

  When the drawing-room door opened, only two women walked into the room. Apparently the child had been sent back to the nursery.

  “Griffin! You’ve come back!”

  Young Elizabeth launched herself at her older brother, and he caught her in a warm embrace. He kissed her on the forehead, then leaned over and did the same with Harriet. Faith noted the older woman’s stony countenance cracked slightly at this gesture of brotherly affection. Neither of the women had noticed Faith sitting quietly in shadows.

  “Look who I’ve brought home with me.”

  Griffin gestured with his hand, and three pairs of eyes turned in her direction. Faith’s heart constricted as she gave her new family a wan smile. They stood together on the opposite side of the room, a united wall.

  The space separating her from them was only a few yards, but it felt vast and overwhelming and terribly lonely.

  “How lovely of you to bring a visitor,” Elizabeth proclaimed in a cheerful voice. “ ’Tis so nice to see you again, Miss Linden.”

  “She is no longer Miss Linden,” Griffin announced in an unemotional tone. “Faith is now the Viscountess Dewhurst. We were married yesterday.”

  Harriet noticeably pulled away from her brother’s side. “Have you gone completely mad?” she hissed, her color fading. “Married. To her? If this is a joke, I find it to be in very poor taste.”

  “I see that your sisters are well acquainted with your sense of humor,” Faith spoke up. Clutching her hands together firmly in her lap, she tried desperately to rid her voice of the fluttery, weak tone. “ ’Tis no joke, Harriet. Griffin and I exchanged vows in a London church yesterday afternoon. We are well and truly man and wife.”

  Harriet gasped loudly at the indelicate reference, while Elizabeth merely looked puzzled. Faith felt her face go hot with embarrassment at her faux pas.

  “Must I remind you there is a young lady present?” Harriet sniffed. She pulled a finely embroidered handkerchief from the pocket of her gown and pressed it beneath her nose. “I do not know how you conducted yourself while living at Mayfair Manor, but in this home we do not speak so openly of such personal matters.”

  A shot of anger speared through Faith. Her remarks had been unintentional, due to nerves, but Harriet’s comments seemed definite and cruel. Faith tried to work up the nerve to reply to this taunt, but could think of nothing sufficiently scathing to say.

  “That is enough, Harriet.” There was a wealth of warning in Griffin’s tone, but his sister seemed far too upset to heed it.

  “What could have possibly possessed you to consent to such a match?” Harriet questioned, turning once more to face her brother. “
And why such haste? You only left for London two weeks ago. Could you not have waited a decent interval before wedding?”

  “I understand that you are surprised and shocked by this sudden news, but have care, Harriet. You are speaking of my wife and your new sister.”

  Though Griffin’s words were spoken calmly, Faith detected the faint tension in his jaw.

  Harriet cast a deliberate glance at Faith. “This is not shock; ’tis a nightmare,” she muttered.

  “Enough! You overstep yourself, sister. Now apologize to my wife.” Griffin’s face grew harder, the taut expression cutting off any further protests from Harriet.

  “That isn’t necessary—” Faith began.

  “Be quiet, Faith,” Griffin commanded, his hard gaze boring into her.

  For a moment Harriet merely stood silently, her jaw clamped shut. Elizabeth moved closer and clutched her sister’s hand in support. Harriet released a tight sigh and made a curt nod of her head toward Faith. “My apologies.” She said nothing more, but the fury in her eyes bespoke of her true feelings.

  Tea arrived. Harriet made a move to excuse herself, but one stern glance of warning from her brother effectively prevented her departure. With obvious reluctance, she settled herself on the edge of a delicate upholstered chair, directly opposite Faith.

  There was complete silence as the servants set out the tea tray.

  “Cook sends her apologies for such a simple tea, my lady,” the young footman said hesitantly. “She hopes to provide you with a far more worthy dinner, to properly welcome you to your new home.”

  “Everything looks lovely,” Faith insisted. “She has done wonders on such short notice. Please convey my sincere thanks to Cook for her efforts on my behalf.”

  The servant smiled, then bowed and left. Faith and Harriet reached simultaneously for the silver pot, their hands colliding. The pot tipped precariously for an instant, but set itself to rights.

  “Sorry,” Faith mumbled, snatching away her hand.

  Harriet gave her a long, searching look. “I have once again forgotten myself. Forgive me. ’Tis your place now as mistress to pour the tea.”

  “But this is a family afternoon,” Faith replied. “It is perfectly proper if you do the honors.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of overstepping my place,” Harriet said stiffly, folding her hands primly in her lap.

  “I insist.”

  “Oh, I couldn’t ”

  “Griffin?” Faith turned beseechingly to her husband for support.

  “Just pour the damn tea and be done with it, Faith.” The viscount glowered at both women, then threw himself into a chair.

  Faith struggled against the despair that threatened to choke her. Though Griffin had earlier defended her, he now sided with his sister against her. That hurt. As did realizing that winning Harriet over was going to be a nearly impossible task, if every small conciliatory gesture Faith offered was met with such open hostility.

  Faith wheezed slightly as she tried to draw a breath, telling herself firmly that it did not matter. Harriet’s blatant disapproval was the very least of her problems at the moment.

  Yet the tears still gathered in her eyes, as much as she tried to prevent them. Faith tilted her head a bit, so no one could see her expression fully, and poured the tea.

  “I take mine with just sugar,” Elizabeth offered helpfully. Wariness flickered in her eyes as she glanced at her older sister. “So does Harriet.”

  The single snort of disapproval from Harriet was her only acknowledgment of the comment. Silently Faith dropped a large lump of sugar into the cup and handed it to a very sullen-faced Harriet. The other woman accepted it with a curt nod, then placed it untouched on the table.

  “I think I’ll have a whiskey instead,” Griffin replied, when Faith held out a cup in his direction.

  Faith wished she had the nerve to ask him to pour her one also. Though she had never tasted anything stronger than wine, the supposed bliss of strong spirits held great allure at the moment.

  Instead, she took a small sip of the tea she did not want and waited. No one said a word.

  “Was the journey pleasant from London?” Elizabeth finally asked.

  “ ’Twas fine,” Griffin answered.

  “Any rain?”

  “A bit.”

  “Oh.” Elizabeth took a sip of tea. She looked uncertainly at her brother. “Did the roads get muddy? From the rain?”

  “Naturally.”

  “How tiresome.”

  Faith sighed. While she certainly appreciated Elizabeth’s efforts to engage in conversation, Faith felt too stiff and ill at ease to lend support. Besides, the subject matter of this riveting discussion was fast putting her to sleep.

  Harriet seemed to be of a similar opinion. In the fading candlelight, Faith could see the other woman’s eyes glaze over. Though never considered beautiful, Faith was surprised to realize what an attractive woman Harriet was, when there were no scowls marring her charming features.

  “You have not asked about your son,” Harriet said suddenly, abruptly changing the subject. “I hope your preoccupation with your sudden wedding has not driven him from your heart.”

  Griffin paused in the act of pouring himself a second draught of whiskey to glare at his sister. “I suggest that you do not test my rather limited patience any further.”

  Harriet raised her chin. “The child missed you. He asked us each day when you would return.”

  Griffin’s expression softened. “I heard you and Elizabeth were trying to give him a lesson on the pianoforte. Is he at all musically inclined?”

  “I’m not certain,” Harriet replied. “It is far too soon to tell. After all, this was only his second lesson.”

  Elizabeth giggled. “He certainly likes banging on the keys.”

  Harriet also smiled, indulgently. “He is a boisterous lad and when confined indoors tends to be more exuberant than usual.”

  “I look forward to meeting him,” Faith interjected eagerly, hungering to mother this spirited child. Perhaps with him she could finally achieve what she truly sought, the companionship of a real family.

  “He is in the nursery eating his supper and cannot be disturbed,” Harriet insisted. “He does not take well to strangers. I believe tomorrow will be soon enough for introductions.”

  “I had hoped to see him today.”

  “Tomorrow,” Harriet stated firmly, rising to her feet. “And now you must excuse me. There is much that needs my attention. I will see you at dinner. ’Tis served promptly at seven. We keep country hours, you know. Come along, Elizabeth.”

  Elizabeth stiffened, then slowly returned the half-eaten pastry she was munching to her dish. With an apologetic shrug toward Faith, the young girl brushed the crumbs from her fingers and followed her sister out of the room.

  Faith’s mind spun. She wanted to roar with frustration. Instead she turned to her husband for support. Griffin raked his hair back with his hand and took a long swallow of his drink. His weary expression proclaimed he was not in the mood to oversee another battle between his wife and his sister.

  Faith took a deep breath. She despised the knot of disappointment and emotion churning in her stomach, despised the weakness and vulnerability she felt.

  She had expected a less than welcoming reaction from Griffin’s family, knowing that Harriet had little fondness for her. Yet this open hostility was almost more than she could bear. There had been a gleam of outrage in Harriet’s eyes that could not possibly be mistaken.

  Suddenly, Faith wished she was once again on the road, traveling alone in the carriage. But instead of bringing her to her new home, it was taking her far away from this place of tension and discord.

  “I shall wear the green silk this evening,” Faith informed the maid that had been assigned to assist her. “Please make certain it is pressed in time for me to dress for dinner.”

  “Yes, my lady.” The older woman carefully extracted the gown from the cumbersome traveling trunk. “ ’Ti
s a beautiful dress. What jewels do you wish to wear?”

  “None. This is only a simple family dinner. It would be vulgar to offer an opulent display.”

  Faith felt her cheeks grow warm at the lie. There was in fact no jewelry to match the magnificent dress. She owned only the few simple pieces that had once belonged to her mother, nothing that was even moderately appropriate for this formal gown.

  The maid eyed her slyly. She was an older woman, with many years of service in the household. “I know where the family jewels are kept. I could ask his lordship’s valet for the key to the safe. There’s a lovely diamond necklace that belonged to his lordship’s mother that would be a perfect match for the gown.”

  For an instant Faith was tempted. It might be worth suffering Griffin’s wrath just to see the expression of horror on Harriet’s face if she entered the dining room wearing their mother’s necklace. That subtle reminder of Faith’s place in the household would surely put a bee in Harriet’s bonnet.

  “All I require is the gown,” Faith said, reluctantly deciding to let the opportunity pass. Tweaking Harriet’s nose was not the way to secure her position in the household. Like it or not, she was going to have to find a way to peacefully coexist with her new sister-in-law or else everyone would suffer.

  ’Twas really enough of a statement to wear the new, expensive fashionable gown to dinner. Faith could not help but notice the condition of both Elizabeth’s and Harriet’s clothing. Well-worn and several years out of fashion.

  Yet it was not for Harriet’s benefit that Faith had chosen this particular garment. She needed that dress for courage. She had worn it to Lady Dillard’s ball the night she and Griffin had been wildly indiscreet in the garden. Perhaps the sight of her in the dress would spark a more pleasant, or even scintillating memory in her husband’s mind.

  With a quick curtsy and a look of disappointment, the maid left. The minute she was alone, Faith turned to her open trunk. Kneeling, she carefully pushed aside the layers of petticoats and frilly undergarments until she located a large, misshapen parcel wrapped in brown paper.